Harry Adopted
by trallgorda
Summary: Post Order, and the Ministry takes Harry into protective custody to place him with a strange wizarding family. Ch. 12 up! Please read and review!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own characters and places.

Chapter 1

Harry rolled over in bed and sighed, gazing out his window with longing. He wished he could just pack up his trunk, tie it to his broom, and fly out of this place, but he wasn't able to. The one time he had seriously considered it, an owl from Dumbledore showed up, and the letter had told him to _remain where he was_ and not to sneak off. After reading it (and seeing the Dursleys glaring at him for daring to receive an owl at the breakfast table) he had gone upstairs, saying he had a headache. He was fighting one off now, but that wasn't anything new.

He sat up and listened, trying to place where the Dursleys were. He could hear Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon downstairs talking over the television, and it was a safe bet that Dudley was out with his friends, vandalizing things. At least they weren't here pestering him; that was one good thing.

A loud _crack_ and a scream downstairs made him leap to his feet and pull out his wand. It sounded as if someone had just Apparated into the living room. Uncle Vernon was roaring and Harry heard something break. It was most likely that he had hurled something at whoever it was, and it was probably something expensive.

"Boy! Get down here!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. "Get down here now!!"

Harry ran, his sneakers thumping all the way down the stairs and into the living room. There, looking shabby as ever but entirely welcome to Harry's eyes, was Remus Lupin.

"Professor Lupin?" Harry gasped, overjoyed at seeing one friendly face. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, Harry," Lupin said over Aunt Petunia's hysterical sobs and Uncle Vernon's muttering about freaks. "I think I rather frightened your aunt and uncle, however."

Harry looked at the pale and angry faces of his unwilling guardians, the shattered something scattered all over the floor, and the smiling face of his teacher. "Oh, that's all right," Harry said, taking a sort of devilish glee in Uncle Vernon's outraged gasp. "Why don't we go into the kitchen and sit down?"

Lupin edged past the Dursleys and followed Harry into the kitchen, fighting to keep a straight face. "Perhaps I should have put on my best robe?" he asked Harry. "I think the condition of this one offended them," he said, looking down at it with regret.

"Ah, don't worry about them," Harry said, pulling out a chair for him. "So, you came to see me?" he prompted as Lupin sat down in the proffered chair and as Harry took his own seat.

"Ye-es, I did," Lupin said hesitantly. "You see, a lot's been happening since the end of the term, and I felt you should know about it."

Harry had a sudden suspicion. "Does Dumbledore know you're here?" he asked.

Lupin shook his head. "No, he doesn't. He says that everything is fine, but I doubt it."

"What's going on?"

Lupin rubbed the spot between his eyebrows with a finger and sighed. "The Ministry is in something akin to chaos. A lot of people are clamoring for Fudge to _do_ something about a lot of issues, and one of those issues is you."

Harry stared at him. "Me? What do people want done? If they still think I'm barking--"

"No, it's not that at all," Lupin said, holding up a hand to stop him. "Almost one hundred percent of the wizarding world believes you, and a lot of people are saying that Muggles can't effectively protect you. A group is lobbying to get you removed from the Dursleys' custody and placed with a wizarding family."

"Hallelujah!" a voice shouted from the living room, and for a second Harry could have sworn that it was Uncle Vernon's. Applause sounded, and Harry realized it was the TV.

"Well, couldn't I stay with somebody from the Order?" Harry asked, already thinking that it would probably be the Weasleys. He could almost taste Mrs. Weasley's toffee pudding as he thought about it.

Lupin shook his head again. "You're missing what I'm saying," he said anxiously. "If you're placed with a wizarding family, you'll lose the protections you have here. What's worse, the Ministry wants to place you with someone of _their_ choice, and the Order won't have any say in the matter. That family could even be someone who secretly sympathizes with Voldemort, and you'd be out of our reach."

"What about when school starts?" Harry asked. "They're not going to keep me from going back to Hogwarts!"

"They could," Lupin said nervously. "All they would have to tell the Ministry would be that they've found a private tutor for you--"

Harry got up and began to pace. At this time last year, he'd been worried about being expelled, but he'd at least had Sirius to go to, and the Weasleys if things really got bad. Now, he didn't have Sirius, and it was most likely that he wouldn't have the Weasleys either. He didn't think he could stand being cooped up somewhere with a family that would idolize him, never let him out of their sight, and never let him see his friends.

"Do you know who they might place me with if they tried it?" he asked, suddenly as anxious as Lupin.

"There are a few that have been approved," Lupin said, pulling out a piece of paper. "Despite the danger that exists in taking you, just about every family in England offered to take you, you know. Let's see--" he said, studying the list. "The Bones have offered, the Fudges, the Caedmons, the Longbottoms, and Severus Snape has also been approved."

"Snape?" Harry said in disbelief. "_Snape_? Why on earth would he--" he trailed off, not quite sure what to think.

"He's a member of the Order, he comes from a family that the Ministry would have no problem with, and Dumbledore had to promise to keep you out of his hair until school began," Lupin said, smiling a little. "Mrs. Weasley also had to threaten him with a personal hex if he didn't offer to take you."

Harry could imagine the sort of hex she'd throw at him and grinned. He thought of the names that Lupin had read off and wondered about the one. "Who are the Caedmons? I don't recognize that name."

"From what I've been able to find out, they are a very old, distinguished, and wealthy family. They've lived out of the eyes of the public for years, but only recently have they resurfaced. There's some rumor that they have Sidhe blood in them, but beyond that, I can't tell you much."

"Sidhe?"

"Fairy blood. If they have that, then they'd be very powerful, magically speaking."

Harry thought of the tiny fairies he'd seen adorning the Christmas trees at Hogwarts. "Fairy blood? How?"

"The Sidhe are large fairies, Harry, and most can be found in Ireland," Lupin explained. "How the Caedmons settled here is beyond me."

"Oh," Harry said, beginning to understand. The Caedmons were an anomaly even in a society of anomalies. Interesting. "When do you think they'll make any sort of decision?"

"Sometime soon, I'd think," Lupin said, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. "I'll send you an owl if I hear anything, I promise."

"Do you have to go already?" Harry asked, sensing that he was getting ready to go.

"It's best I don't stay _too_ long," Lupin said regretfully. "If I could stay longer, I'd challenge you to a chess game. You stay here--"

"Do I have to?"

"And stay out of trouble," Lupin finished, grinning at Harry's mock disappointment. He knew the boy would stay where he was, but he also knew that he wouldn't like it. Lupin gripped Harry's shoulder for a moment, let go, and Apparated. Aunt Petunia screamed again, and Harry fought down a little snicker. He wondered how the Dursleys would react if he told them that Lupin was a werewolf?

Space

Later that night, Harry was sitting up reading. Desperate for something to do, he'd gone down to the library and signed up for a card so that he could check out books. Even though they weren't wizarding books, they were still interesting, and the library had a decent enough selection. At least reading was a way to pass the time.

Harry was deep in "The Count of Monte Cristo" when he heard someone pounding on the front door. It startled him so much that he dropped his book. Who in the world would be coming here at this time of night?

Uncle Vernon opened the door, shouted "What the devil--?" and began protesting as whoever it was came inside. Harry got to his feet and reached for his wand, hoping that whoever it was wouldn't be anyone he'd have to fight.

"You are breaking and entering, gentlemen!" Uncle Vernon roared. "I shall ring the police! This is unlawful entry!!"

Harry's door banged open, and the people who stood there scared him almost witless. They were dressed in cloaks with hoods up over their heads, and for a moment, Harry was certain that the Death Eaters had found him, or that the Dementors had come for him at last. He raised his wand, ready to fight--

"Expelliarmus!!" a voice boomed, and Harry's wand flew out of his hand. The wizard at the front caught it easily and tucked it inside his robes. "Mr. Potter?" the hooded form said.

Harry nodded.

"We are wizards from the Ministry, and we're here to take you into protective custody."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After being bundled into a car by the Ministry wizards, Harry tried very hard to remain calm. Why were they snatching him like this in the middle of the night? Was this what "protective custody" was all about? If it was, then he didn't like it at all. He was scared out of his skull, and it felt more as if he were being taken to Azkaban than being protected.

Harry didn't know how long it took to get to London, but the next thing he knew they were stopping outside the large red phone booth that he and Mr. Weasley had used on the day of his hearing. They entered, dialed, and he felt the floor sink like an elevator's. He was hurried through the front hall(still in a shambles from his and Dumbledore's battle with Voldemort) and bustled into another elevator. He heard the voice say something as it stopped, but he didn't really hear it. He had a funny roaring in his ears, and he was shaking. He was scared, and these wizards didn't seem to really notice.

A trip down a hallway and through a door left Harry sitting in a chair, feeling as if the world had turned upside down, shaken itself a few times, and settled itself down. He clutched the chair's arms and tried to take a deep breath. Hoping to distract himself, he looked around the room, trying to take it all in. There was a fireplace with a cheerfully crackling fire burning in it, a couple of comfy armchairs in front of it(one of which he occupied) an armoire and dresser with a mirror that was emitting a faint snore, and a large four-poster bed with velvet hangings. An open door on the left wall revealed a comfortable bathroom, and a bookcase full of books occupied one corner. Was he still in the Ministry?

The door opened, and Harry jumped out of his chair, hand halfway to his wand, ready to curse or hurl a hex just in case. Harry hurriedly lowered his wand when he spotted a plump, motherly-looking witch in the doorway. The witch there jumped and gave a funny little laugh when she realized that Harry wasn't about to attack her, and came forward to shake his hand.

"So pleased to meet you, my dear," she said, pumping his hand up and down energetically. "I am Amelia, and I've been assigned as your caretaker while you're here."

Harry stared at her, surprised. "My caretaker? But I thought---"

Amelia stood there quietly and smiled, waiting for him to finish.

"I thought I was being placed with a wizarding family," Harry finished.

"Well, such procedures take time, love, and we want you to be comfortable until a decision is reached," Amelia explained. "There are plenty of quarters like these in the Ministry, and most are used for foreign diplomat wizards and witches, but the house staff was asked to make these rooms up for you."

"Oh," Harry said quietly, somewhat surprised. The Ministry was taking no chances on his slipping away or his being attacked since they'd housed him in the ministry building itself. He knew that most people would expect him to feel grateful or safe, but all he felt was worried. How would he contact the Order or the Weasleys? How would anyone in the outside world know he was still alive?

"Well, let's get you settled in, shall we?" Amelia said, bustling past him. Opening up the dresser, she took out a set of pajamas and handed them to Harry. "You go change, love, while I get your bed ready."

Feeling quite numb and still a little shaky, Harry went into the bathroom and did as she asked. When he came back out a few moments later, she was turning down his bed, and a tea tray had arrived. With a wave of her wand, Amelia warmed his bed and Harry allowed himself to be bustled into it. She poured him a hot cup of tea, and Harry regarded the golden yellow color suspiciously.

"It's chamomile," Amelia explained. "Chamomile with honey. It calms the nerves and I should say that you've had quite a stressful evening, hmmm?"

Harry said nothing, but he sipped at the tea. If it would help calm him down, he had no objections. He felt as if he were vibrating slightly, like one of Moody's Dark Detectors. He finished that cup, and Amelia poured another one without being asked. She selected a book from the shelf and placed it on Harry's bedside table "to read in case you're not sleepy," but one look at Harry's sleepy eyes convinced her that it wasn't really necessary. Harry set his tea aside, allowed himself to drop into the big, fluffy pillows, and closed his eyes as Amelia tucked the blankets in around his shoulders. As he drifted off, he wondered if it had really been chamomile tea or a sleeping potion of some kind, because he couldn't remember ever being so tired before.

Space

As the days went by, Harry began to wonder if the Ministry would ever make up its mind. The decision was taking an awfully long time, and he was getting a little sick of his room and the Ministry garden. When he learned that he wasn't even going to be _allowed_ to attend the proceedings, he was furious and spent the entire day sulking and thinking of ways to play a few tricks on Fudge to get even with him. It seemed as if it didn't matter that he'd defeated the most feared wizard in the world several times over, dealt with horrors like dementors and basilisks, and fought against people (like Umbridge) who were out for his blood. No, ickle Harry was only a child, and couldn't be trusted to sit through a court case. There were times when he felt like beating his head off the wall.

One morning, when Amelia arrived with his breakfast (she always insisted on serving it to him while he was still in bed), Harry had made a decision. Either the Ministry made up its mind, or he was out of there. He'd get out, find the Order, and choose his _own_ guardian, darn it! He didn't need Fudge or his fussing, he'd manage on his own. It wasn't as if he hadn't been doing something similar to that for a while now.

Since Amelia always brought him news along with his lunch, he spent the morning trying to distract himself with a good book. They had a great selection in the shelf for him, so he never really had to search for something he liked. A great many of the books were about Quidditch, so he felt content when he read. At the moment, he was deep in a book about great Quidditch players, so he didn't hear Amelia when she came in.

"Well, I've got some news for you," she said, bringing him out of the narrative of Camden Warren, the greatest seeker of the 18th century. "The court has reached a decision."

Harry closed his book. "And what have they decided?"

"Mr. Caedmon will take you," she said, smiling. Harry didn't understand how she could always be so _happy_. She was acting as if this was the greatest thing in the world.

"When?"

"When? Why, he'll be here to get you this evening."

Harry sat there, wondering if Snape wouldn't be a better choice. After all, he already knew Snape, and Caedmon was an unknown factor. What would he be like, and what could Harry expect from him?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As soon as Amelia was gone, Harry sprang into action. Hedwig had arrived the day after Harry had arrived at the Ministry, and he was allowed to take her out into the garden to give her exercise. It was an underground garden, but couldn't he find someplace that led to the outside? If he could take her out and let her fly, who said that she couldn't take a letter for him? He wrote quickly, biting his lip, and praying that he wouldn't waste time with stupid mistakes. That Caedmon guy would be here _tonight_, he had to get word to his friends before then. Maybe they could bust him out.

_Dear Lupin,_ he wrote. _The court's decided that Caedmon gets me. Break me out before he gets here and I promise to start working harder at Potions, anything, just get me out of here!_

_Harry_

He folded up the letter, grabbed Hedwig, and hurried out into the hall. He had permission to explore the building if he wished, as long as he didn't leave. Well, he'd have to bend that rule a little if he wanted to contact the Order. He wandered through the halls, trying to find a way that led outside, but that was more difficult than explaining the alphabet to Goyle so he would understand. He was thoroughly lost when a letter appeared from the air right in front of him and dropped to the floor. On the back of it was his name. Praying that it wasn't greetings from Voldemort, Harry picked it up and opened it.

_Dear Harry,_ he read. _We know all about the decision, don't panic. We don't know how he knew, but Caedmon showed up at Grimmauld Place just now and swore into the Order, to reassure us, he said, that he meant no harm to our ward. How do you like that? From what we could tell, he arrived by using Sidhe magic, and Sidhe magic such as Caedmon has can stand no taint of evil. He said that we may visit you, but the reason he put in his bid to become your guardian was because of Sidhe protections. You'll automatically have the protections he has simply by living with him. There's very little known about Sidhe magic, so Voldemort is powerless. Don't worry. We'll be in touch soon, so don't try running out of the Ministry. You take care._

_Lupin_

Feeling thoroughly foolish, Harry turned around and headed back to his room. Maybe Lupin didn't understand that he didn't want to live with this Caedmon person. He preferred Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the other members of the Order. Why couldn't he just live with them?

"Well, I don't know where he went," Harry heard Amelia saying as he turned a corner that looked familiar. Oh good, he wasn't as lost as he thought. "He was here when I left."

Harry spotted a crowd gathered outside his room: Amelia, Fudge, a few other wizards and witches he'd seen hanging around the Ministry, a reporter and photographer from the _Daily Prophet_, and one man he didn't recognize that had to be Caedmon. As soon as Harry got a good look at him, he knew that this was no one to mess with. He turned and looked Harry dead in the eye before saying, "There he is."

It was if Caedmon had uttered the words for a mob spell. Every person there surged towards Harry, shaking his hand and congratulating him, Amelia gushed and said she was so happy that he was all right, Fudge clapped him on the back and tried to introduce him to Caedmon, and the reporter babbled questions at him while the photographer tried to get a picture of Caedmon shaking Harry's hand. When asked by Fudge, Harry stammered an explanation that Hedwig had wanted a little exercise, and Harry thanked Amelia's insisitence that they let him go, he needed to get ready for his trip.

Soon, everyone but Fudge, Amelia, and Caedmon were gone, and numbly Harry went through the motions of packing. He didn't realize that Caedmon was helping him until he bent to pick up the same thing that Caedmon had and had bashed his head against his.

"Ooops," Caedmon said, rubbing his head. "Sorry, Harry, didn't mean to brain you. Are you all right?"

"Fine," Harry muttered, trying to feel it. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been less fine.

Amelia made him sit down so she could check him over, and he sat still and let her fuss. He wasn't in the mood to protest. She finished packing for him, and Harry got the shock of his life when Hedwig flew to Caedmon's arm to be stowed away in her cage.

_Traitor_, Harry thought.

Space

Caedmon gazed at the boy sitting next to him in the back seat of the Muggle car he'd had bought for him while he'd been in London last year. He'd had a feeling he'd need it then, and now he was glad he had it. He couldn't use his usual forms of transportation with a young wizard, that was for sure. Harry had fallen asleep some hours ago, and was resting like the first child ever made. Caedmon smiled. It wasn't often he had a poetic thought. He hoped Taleisin had taken that one down.

The neigh of a horse brought him out of his reverie. Startled, he glanced out the window and spotted a coal black horse running alongside the car. When he looked more closely, he realized that the car was surrounded. He chuckled, gave a grim smile, and allowed his car to move just a little faster, to give the horses competition.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Harry woke up when he heard a car door slam. The seat next to him was empty, so it must have been Caedmon. He still didn't know the guy's first name, and he wondered when he was going to tell him.

Caedmon opened Harry's door from him and gave him a ghost of a smile.

"Welcome to Maith Cara, Harry," he said as Harry got out of the car. "It's old, but it's comfortable."

Harry stared up at the old house. Three floors, probably with five rooms on each floor, it was an old gray stone building with a low stone wall around it. He could see bushes in the garden poking up over the top of the wall. An ancient oak stood behind the house, and holly trees stood on either side of the heavy front door. Scrolled copper metalwork ornamented the door and shutters over the windows. It was an interesting place, and he could _feel_ the magic around it.

"This is the summer house," Caedmon was saying, carrying Harry's trunk up the front walk. "In the fall we'll move up north."

"Wouldn't you go south for the winter?" Harry asked, perplexed, as Caedmon opened the door.

"No, I've family up north, and they would never forgive me if I failed to see them during the holidays. You may remain at school, if you like, or you may join us, whichever you prefer."

Harry listened but didn't say anything. By that time, they were standing in the front hallway, and a wave of Caedmon's hand brought lit the candles in sconces on the walls.

"Well, let's get you settled in, and I'll give you a tour," Caedmon said, trying to be cheerful. Harry followed him up the stairs, and he wondered what was different about this house that was beginning to bother him. It felt as if he could hear a talk show from a badly tuned radio in the back of his head. He was positive that whatever it was had its eyes on him.

Caedmon led Harry into a large room toward the front of the house on the second floor. Candles lit at their entrance, and Harry looked around, quite pleased. It was a large room with a four-poster bed like his one at the Ministry, but unlike the Ministry, this one had windows. A bay window faced north, and in front of it was a window seat with the shutters pulled back. Once he sat down on it and closed the shutters, he could shut out his room and see only the outside. The rest of the room was just as great. Carpets covered the floor in places, and brightly colored tapestries covered the bare spots on the walls. Bookshelves covered one wall, and a desk sat in its own little nook. An armoire stood in the corner. Harry guessed that the walls were stone underneath the plaster, and building tiny rooms with stone was difficult. An armoire was much more practical. Chairs stood in front of the fireplace, which was not lit, but a basket of orange, red, and yellow flowers gave the illusion of a fire. Harry's eyes passed over the fire irons and then snapped back to look more closely. They were made of copper and they had wooden handles. Why on earth were they made like that?

Harry decided not to ask as he helped Caedmon unpack his things. It didn't take long before Harry had everything he owned arranged to his liking. Caedmon even left the room for a few minutes and brought back a perch for Hedwig.

"There you are," Caedmon said as Harry made sure that Hedwig was comfortable. "Now if you'll follow me, I'll give you a tour of the house."

There was a lot more to the house than Harry had first thought. Rooms opened into one another on the first floor, and Harry looked over the parlor, dining room, study/library, conservatory, and the kitchen/pantry/scullery with cool approval. Harry did another double take in the kitchen when he saw that the large kettle bubbling over the fire was copper.

"Supper," Caedmon explained. "It's not quite ready yet, so shall we continue?"

The second floor contained his bedroom and Caedmon's, as well as Caedmon's work room. The other bedrooms were guest rooms and weren't used that often, according to Caedmon. Harry was shown another tiny, winding staircase that Caedmon said led to the kitchen. The third floor held a variety of tiny rooms that were either empty, occupied by old furniture, or filled with trunks.

"When it rains or if you're bored, you can come up here and poke around if you like," Caedmon said, leading Harry back downstairs. "I certainly won't mind. Just don't enter the work room, I have experiments going on in there that shouldn't be disturbed. The attics are fun on long, wet afternoons, I can tell you. We always came and spent our summers here, and I'd spend all day up in the attics when it rained."

Harry said nothing, but followed Caedmon down the winding stairs to the kitchen. Caedmon served up stew for them both and sliced bread with a knife that was made out of copper.

"What…?" Harry said, unable to form a question but unable to keep silent.

Caedmon looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"What's with all the copper?" he finished lamely.

"Well, I have Sidhe blood, and iron and steel are poisonous to Sidhe, so I have to use copper if I want metal around the house."

"But what about the car?" Harry asked, stumped. "That has steel…"

"Not anymore, I had it done over in a way that wouldn't hurt me."

"Oh," Harry said, taking the bowl of stew and bread that Caedmon handed him. Was it possible to use copper in a car? It could be, if one also had magic on it.

"Sorry it's such simple fare tonight," Caedmon said apologetically. "I didn't have time to cook, so I asked that it be made up for us."

"Who made it?"

"Friends of mine. They'll introduce themselves to you in their own way and time."

Harry nodded, storing all of that information away for later. Not much of it made sense, and there was a lot about Caedmon that he didn't know. He'd have to be careful.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Maith Cara was beginning to freak Harry out. No matter where he went in that house, he always felt as if he were walking into a room packed with people, but he never saw anyone. If he were sitting somewhere, he would hear footsteps that he knew weren't Caedmon's out in the hallway. More than once he felt as if someone were staring at the back of his head, but he would turn around and find that there was no one there. He could hear people whispering in different parts of the house, but he never got close enough to hear what they were saying.

He tried to talk to Caedmon about it, but the guy wasn't much help. All he'd said about the matter was that it was nothing to worry about. That wasn't reassuring in the least, but Harry tried to slog along as best he could.

One day, he was out in the garden with a book, and he kept seeing something out of the corner of his eye. Whenever he tried to look directly at it, it would be gone, but when he looked obliquely, he could tell that it was something…someone…dressed in white and light green.

_I'll just continue reading, and it'll go away or stick around,_ he thought, turning a page. When it made up its mind what it wanted to do, then he would probably get a better look at it.

He managed to get so far into the book that he jumped half a mile when he realized that someone was sitting next to him on the bench.

"Hello, child," she said, smiling.

"Hullo," Harry answered, beginning to feel shy. This woman was what he had been seeing, but she was beautiful! She wasn't a veela, but she was still gorgeous enough to make his heart pound.

"So you've come to stay with our Ronan," she said, sounding like a proud old grandmother. "What do you think of him?"

"You mean Caedmon? I like him," Harry said, "but I still don't know him that well. He's always working upstairs in his work room."

She nodded. "That would be like our Ronan," she said, smiling. Harry felt his heart do a little jump. "He's doing his best for us against the dark ones, that's for certain. What think you of Maith Cara?"

"Is it haunted?" Harry asked, feeling foolish. "I'm always hearing voices"

"That would be the small fey," she said, patting his shoulder. "Pay them no mind, they're rarely quiet."

"Small fey?" he said, perplexed. By this point, she had put an arm around his shoulders, and he was happily content. She was starting to smooth his hair for him.

"Brownies, house elves, and the like," she explained, fighting the losing battle that Mrs. Weasley always fought against his hair. "They like to chat with one another while they work."

"Oh," Harry said, taking that information in. "What's your name?" he asked, suddenly anxious to know. What if she were a dream?

She smiled. "You may call me Cara," she told him.

Caedmon found him there hours later, asleep and dead to the world. He carried the boy inside and put him to bed, recognizing the feel of the magic around him. A resting spell that his grandmother set would last until dawn the next day, so there was no point in trying to wake the boy up for supper.

He tucked the boy in, went back downstairs, and got the surprise of his life when he saw her seated at the kitchen table.

"Hello, grandson," Cara said. "He's asleep?"

"Gone like the flame of a candle," Caedmon said, sitting down across from her. "Why did you spell him?"

She smiled. "Because he's a nervous wreck, that's why," she explained. "I've spoken with the small fae, and they won't be so noticeable anymore for him. He was starting to think that he was going mad."

"Oh," Caedmon said, nodding. "How's Grandfather? Have you seen him?"

She smiled. "No, dear, I haven't. You know he and I don't get on anymore."

"Just thought I'd ask. How are the spells holding up?"

"They're fine," she said, patting his hands. "You're doing very well."

She rose, kissed him on the forehead, and left, adding that he should try to rest some. Sighing, Caedmon went upstairs to bed, hoping that one day soon, he'd be able to do what was needed of him without worrying.

Author's Note:

Good so far? Anything you don't like?


	6. LettersChapter 6

Letters

Harry came downstairs for breakfast the next morning, feeling much better than he had for days. He hadn't woken up once - lately, he'd been jerking awake in the night, positive that he had heard something - but that hadn't happened at all last night. Instead, he had slept like a baby in its mother's arms. He smiled, truly relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages.

"Morning," Caedmon said as he got to the kitchen. "How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful," Harry said, sliding into "his" chair. "I feel great, really."

"That's good. You have some mail."

Harry lost his dreamy-eyed look and fastened his eyes on Caedmon. "Huh? Mail? From who?"

"Everybody, it would seem," Caedmon said, grinning and handing it over to Harry. "They all arrived this morning."

Harry took the stack of letters and began to look through them. There was one from Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Hagrid, Lupin, Moody, Tonks, Fred, George, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape (Harry had to look at that one twice to make certain his eyes weren't playing tricks on him) Neville, Dean, Seamus, and several other people that he had never met had sent him letters. He opened the one from Professor Dumbledore first, in spite of the fact that he was still a little angry with him from last semester.

_Dear Harry,_ he read.

_Well, the barmy old codger says hello._ Harry laughed at that, he remembered Dobby telling him that Dumbledore had told the little house elf that he could call him that. _I hope that you are well, and that you are comfortable with Caedmon. Let him know that I am still looking forward to that game of chess he promised me five years ago. Enjoy your time with him, he is a person worth knowing, once you get to know him. So far, since that debacle at the Ministry last June, Voldemort has been doing nothing that I have been able to see. My reports are that he is plotting, but my sources are unable to tell me what. Whether it has something to do with you or not, we have no way of knowing. I hope that he has finally seen the error of his ways and is getting ready to apologize and make amends, but I know that such an event would only happen in a perfect world. Since the world is not perfect, I must keep hoping. When you return, you may be surprised at all of the things that await you here. We have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and I am certain that you will like him. He has already charmed the rest of the staff, me included. He is easy to like, I can tell you that. Gifts have been arriving for you here since before your birthday - it seems that the entire wizarding world has taken you to its heart. Don't worry, we're screening them carefully. You will certainly like the one in the gold wrapping, and the one in the wrapping patterned with Snitches is absolutely fabulous. I won't tell you any more here, they are supposed to be secret. I shall see you on September 1st. You take care of yourself._

_Warmest Regards, _

_Dumbledore._

Harry smiled and slipped Dumbledore's letter back into its envelope. "He wants me to remind you about that chess game you promised him five years ago," he said, reaching for Hagrid's letter.

Caedmon groaned. "I should never have promised him that," Caedmon said. "I didn't think before I said it."

"It's only a chess game," Harry said, slitting the envelope open.

"Well, I can't really play," Caedmon confessed, serving them both breakfast.

"Don't worry," Harry said, grinning a little. "I can teach you." Having said that, he started Hagrid's letter.

_Hello, Harry!_

_I've been worried about you, but Dumbledore says that I shouldn't worry at all since Caedmon's a good man, so I'll try not to. Lots of things have been going on, but it's supposed to be secret, all the stuff happening at Hogwarts, so I won't tell you no more here. You'll love our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher - he's excited about the start of term and has been getting ready for it since he got here, but he still found time to help me in the garden today. Fang likes him too, and so does Fluffy. He gave me a small dragon statue not too long ago, saying that he's no use for it, but he thought I would like it. I've named it Norbert Jr. Fang stares at it a lot, but I'm sure he likes it too. Well, I'll see you when the term starts - I've got lots to get ready, we're starting on water creatures this term! See you soon, Harry, and you take care._

_Cheers,_

_Hagrid._

Harry gritted his teeth, wondering who the new teacher was. Not knowing was going to drive him crazy! Hagrid and Dumbledore certainly liked him. He re-read the line about the water creatures and thought, _Great. Now we're in danger of getting killed _and _drowned. Ooh, boy._ Deciding to worry about that later, Harry picked up Hermione's letter and read it. She was busy doing research for the Order, and she had included about five pages of stuff about the Caedmon family, saying how lucky he was since he could learn lots from Caedmon. Harry shook his head, marveling at how Hermione's thoughts were always bent toward learning. Lupin's letter was enlightening.

_Dear Harry,_

_Well, I've revised my opinion of Caedmon and I'm no longer planning on biting him. I was worried that he wanted you simply for prestige or some other nefarious reason, but he seems genuine. He has invited all of us to come visit you, so look for us soon, all right? I've been awfully busy since you've been there, but I'm not supposed to tell you anything. It's for your safety that I'm not telling you, and us telling anyone would ruin the plan. I'm taking a gamble, but I feel it is worth it. Oooh, wait until Voldie finds out! His face will be priceless! I'll see you soon, and have a good time. We all think of you here._

_Lupin_

Now feeling a little confused, and very intrigued, Harry set to his breakfast with good will. If Lupin didn't tell him anything, that was okay, but he was going to tell him everything once it was safe, he would see to that!


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: I know it's been a long while since I've updated, but I've been pretty busy. Away from home, new job, yadda yadda. Anyway, here you go!

Kudos to my reviewers!

Erik's Bride: Thanks for the compliments, I'd been worried about the authenticity of the characters. As for the letters, the reason why they all arrived at once will be explained.

CPO3: He wouldn't be Lupin if he weren't. As for the new professor, we'll have to see.

Ti3nl3i: Again, my friend, you forget what Harry's dealing with. Caedmon has Sidhe blood, and a lot of the creatures running around that house (Caedmon's grandmother included) have Sidhe magic. That's powerful stuff. If she wants Harry to fall asleep and let her play with his hair, then that's what he'll do. Don't worry, there's a reason.

Alexis: Glad you're hooked! Thanks for the review!

Chapter 7

Harry waited on tenterhooks for the promised visits from Ron and Hermione. In the meantime, he kept himself busy by running around in the garden and out in the moors surrounding the house. More than once he spotted moor ponies nearby, but they always moved away from him if he came close.

One day, he was out on the moors like always, walking along a small river and wondering if his friends would show up soon when he spotted a black moor pony standing on the riverbank. It didn't move away when he came closer, and he stood very still, watching it.

It was a bit larger than the other moor ponies, and it stayed where it was, watching him. It shook its mane, seemed to make up its mind about something, and then trotted over to him.

Harry froze. Perhaps this was a pony that had escaped from a nearby farm? If so, then that would explain why it was so tame. He smiled when the pony nudged him in his chest with his nose and whuffed at him. Harry found himself smiling: He had never been this close to a horse before(not counting the unicorns) and he tentatively patted the horse's nose, enjoying the pony's friendliness.

The pony whickered and nudged him again, this time nudging him around to his left side as if in an invitation to mount. Harry stood stock-still, not quite sure, but the pony half-knelt to make getting onto his back easier. There was no clearer invitation than that.

Harry was about to get onto his back when he heard Caedmon shout "DON'T YOU _DARE_, AHEARN!"

Harry jumped back, surprised, and the horse simply stood there, staring at Caedmon as he stalked up.

"Harry, are you all right?" he asked, looking him over.

"Yes," Harry had to admit. "How did you get out here so fast?"

"I used a bit of magic," Caedmon said, still glaring at the pony. "I saw what was about to happen and got out here quick. Ahearn," he said, addressing the pony, "_What did you think you were doing?"_

Harry wanted to ask if Ahearn was Caedmon's, but he got the shock of his life when he saw the pony suddenly change into a young man. He was dressed in fashions from the 1700s done in a striking black and silver combination, and Harry was sure that if the girls from school could have seen him, there would have been a fight over who would get to talk to him first. He was incredibly handsome: white skin, blue eyes, blond hair, tall, and he had the grace of a dancer. He was gorgeous enough to cause a riot.

"How did you figure it out, Caedmon?" Ahearn asked, smiling sardonically.

Caedmon glared at him. "The ponies around here aren't tame, and I know you favor black. What did you think you were doing with my ward, Ahearn?"

Ahearn gave Harry a look of mock surprise. "Your _ward_? Oh, my goodness, me, I had no idea! I was only thinking of the ladies back home, really."

Caedmon glared at him again. "I'm sure."

Ahearn dropped the sarcasm. "All right, I knew he was yours, but I was thinking of the ladies."

"I'm lost," Harry said, looking to Caedmon for an explanation.

"He hasn't told you about his own brother?" Ahearn said, pretending to be shocked. "Little brother, I'm hurt!"

Caedmon just sighed. "Right. The day I hurt your feelings is the day you take a vow of nonindulgence."

Ahearn visibly shuddered.

"Your…brother?" Harry said, somewhat surprised. "And he can turn into a horse?"

"Yes, that's one of his favorite tricks," Caedmon explained while Ahearn just smiled. "He'll disguise himself as a friendly pony and wait for some unwary mortal to come along. He'll either toss them into the river or he'll run off with them to Grandfather's court."

You were going to try to drown me?" Harry demanded, angry now.

"No, not at all," Ahearn hastened to reassure him. "Like I said, I was thinking of the ladies back home. They would treat you like a prince just because of those green eyes, you see. They're quite fabulous, and they like the company of a young mortal man every now and then. When you are older, I'm sure that one of them would love to have you as a husband, if just to make sure that her children had those eyes."

Harry didn't know what to say, but Caedmon did.

"Don't even think it, Ahearn," he snarled. "The ladies will have to find their amusement elsewhere. You came here for a reason, now what is it?"

Ahearn visibly rolled his eyes. "Business like always, isn't it, little brother?" he said. "All right. I have some letters for you."

"From?"

"Grandfather and Lady Alyssa," Ahearn said, pulling out two envelopes from his pocket. "She begged me to bring you a letter, and he ordered me to, so here I am."

Caedmon took them both and glared at them. Harry noticed he was wearing gloves. "Are you to wait for an answer?"

"Yes, but I'll wait outside. That house you insist on using is far too confining. Just come find me when you have an answer."

Caedmon nodded. "Harry, come with me, please. I don't trust this lout."

Ahearn only grinned.

Space

"He's your brother?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yes," Caedmon muttered as he pulled out a quill, ink, and some parchment. "He's full-blooded Sidhe, while I'm…" Caedmon stopped and seemed to consider his words. "Not."

"You don't like him?"

Caedmon considered this. "He's just played too many tricks for me to trust him, really, and we're far apart enough in age to have difficulty relating to one another. He's several hundred years older than I am."

"Wow," Harry said, surprised. The last person he'd heard of that was several hundred years old had been Nicolas Flamel.

"You don't share the same parents, do you?" Harry asked. "After all, if he's full blood…"

Caedmon shook his head. "No, we don't, and thank goodness. All we share is a father and grandparents. His mother was willing to take care of me after my mother died, and she is the type of woman who enjoys making a pet out of a child—you know, leaving all the difficult things like feeding and diapers and discipline to a nurse while having the child appear in public with her every now and then, all dressed up like a little doll. She would have me sit on her lap and she'd cuddle me and try to feed me tidbits; things like that. Sometimes I felt like a lapdog instead of a person."

Harry winced. "How long did that go on?"

Caedmon considered this. "Harry, how much do you know about the Sidhe?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Not much," he admitted.

"Well, Sidhe and those with Sidhe blood age differently from full mortals, some faster and some slower. I was one who aged slowly," Caedmon explained. "My mother had me when she was twenty, and she died fifty years later. When she died, I was about the size of a five-year-old child. Oh, Mother had taught me to read and write and things like that, my mind could understand learning, but in many ways, I was still a child with a child's mind, and I was unable to take care of myself, so Ahearn's mother agreed to take me when my grandfather asked her to. My grandmother, unfortunately, was unable to get to me before he did, so I was raised in his court. Once I reached a certain age, I mean; once I was equal with a mortal sixteen-year-old, I was able to leave and go where I wished. I have to tell you, I was never so happy to grow up. It was more than one hundred mortal years before I matured enough to leave."

Harry took all of this in, surprised at Caedmon's sudden confidences, but pleased nonetheless. He also felt a great deal of pity for Caedmon's long childhood in a place he hated. He could relate to that completely. It made Harry's years at the Dursleys' seem like a few minutes. "When was this? Where did you go after that?" He was unable to keep his curiosity under wraps any longer.

Caedmon smiled. "It was 1802 when I left my grandfather. I sought out my grandmother, and she taught me all about my Sidhe blood and why I was different from all of the other children at my grandfather's court. She also helped me understand what being a half-blood meant, and she taught me how to live either as a Sidhe or a human. She was also the person who taught me magic."

"How long were you there?"

Caedmon smiled again as he finished the letter to his grandfather. "I'm still here, Harry. You may not have understood what you've been hearing or seeing, but this is where she holds her court. We would be here every summer, and in the winter we would be in a castle up north. I prefer my grandmother, really. She treated me as a young man, not as a child, and I truly appreciated that."

"She mentioned work that you do—" Harry began, but he stopped, unsure if he should continue.

"Work against Voldemort," Caedmon told him, smiling at Harry's surprise. "You see, there are ways that the Sidhe can be controlled, imprisoned, or otherwise used by someone else. I've been making sure that all of those ways are being rendered useless. Basically, I'm setting up what could be described as a loophole spell, and so far, the Sidhe are safe from Voldemort."

Harry felt himself shiver. "I can't imagine what he would be like if he had Sidhe magic."

"I can," Caedmon said grimly. "I've had nightmares about it." He looked down at the letter he still had to answer and snarled.

Harry grinned, feeling mischievous. "Is that the one from Lady Alyssa?"

"Was it my nauseated look that gave it away, or my obvious annoyance?" Caedmon asked, picking up a small pair of tongs. Harry noticed that he was still wearing gloves.

"Both, really. What's with the tongs and gloves?"

Caedmon made a small grimace as he broke the letter's seal. "Sometimes she'll include a nice little spell for me, and the effects of her spells are not pleasant."

"Then why do you open them?" Harry asked, not understanding.

"Ever receive a Howler?"

"Oh."

Caedmon waved his hand a few times over the letter before giving a huge sigh of relief. "It's all right, the only thing that's on this letter is perfume and that ridiculous purple ink," he said, reading it. A few minutes later he groaned. "If I've told her once, I've told her a thousand times that I couldn't care less for her…_WHAT! _What does she mean, my _proposal of marriage!_"

A tenor laugh answered him, and Ahearn appeared on the hearth rug. "You should have seen your face!" he howled. "Ooh, it was _priceless_!"

"Ahearn," Caedmon began dangerously, but his brother interrupted him.

"Don't worry, that letter is a fake. She isn't thinking of marriage, only pining away for love of you," he said, pulling a different one out of his pocket. "It was a bit of work to produce that letter, but oh, it was worth it!"

Caedmon took the letter that Ahearn held out to him, quickly read it, scrawled an answer on the back of it, and handed it back to his brother. "Never do that again," he growled.

"I'm not making any promises," Ahearn said, grinning. "You'll just have to live with it."

With that, Ahearn vanished, still laughing.

"Git," Caedmon muttered. Harry smiled, thinking how much like Fred and George Ahearn was, and how Caedmon resembled Ron when he was annoyed.

Space

Harry was up in bed that night, ignoring a storm outside and reading a book that Caedmon had loaned him entitled _The Sidhe: A History and an Illumination._ It described the history of the Sidhe people, from their beginnings to how they had been driven underground by the Milesians (the first mortals), their interactions with mortals from that time, and what their motivations, mores, and customs were. Harry found himself unable to believe that someone had actually been able to write a guide about the Sidhe. It sounded almost like the foreign country guides that tourists bought before they went abroad.

Harry was deep in the descriptions of the physical characteristics of the Sidhe when he heard someone pounding down on the front door. He heard Caedmon go downstairs and open it, and a moment later… "Harry! There's someone here to see you!"

Wondering who it was, Harry left his room and froze at the top of the steps, his face breaking into a grin when he saw Ron and Hermione dripping on the mat.


	8. Chapter 8

"Ron! Hermione!" Harry said in surprise, seeing his two best friends. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you get our letters?" Ron asked, wiping water from his face. "We told you we were coming to visit!"

Caedmon raised an eyebrow. "In the middle of the night?"

"We came on the Knight Bus, and they took a wrong turn," Hermione explained. "We ended up near London instead of here."

"Bloody bus," Ron muttered. "I'll never be able to get into a moving vehicle again. Scared me half out of my wits."

Caedmon looked confused, but decided it didn't matter. "Well, since you're here, I'm sure you'd like to get dried off and change and get some rest."

"Oh, _thank_ you," Hermione said gratefully. "I feel like a sponge."

"I can imagine," Caedmon remarked. "Harry, why don't you show your friends to the guest rooms upstairs? The doors will be open to show you which ones to use."

Ron and Hermione thanked Caedmon, and they followed Harry upstairs. Once they were in dry clothes, they joined Harry in his room for some quick catching up before bed.

"So how's it been, mate?" Ron asked, plopping onto Harry's bed while Hermione curled up in one of the chairs. "What's it like here?"

Harry considered this. "It's been interesting. There are all sorts of small fey running around, Caedmon's brother visited us earlier, and I met his grandmother. Beyond that, there's not much."

"Small fey? You mean magical creatures?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Well, I haven't really asked Caedmon who or what else is here besides us, and he just calls them 'small fey,' so I can't really say. His grandmother and brother are magical, that's for certain."

"What do you do all day?" Ron asked, looking around the room.

"I walk around outside, explore the house and moors, read, take Hedwig out, things like that. Beyond those things, I don't do much," Harry told them.

"Sounds quiet," Hermione said, examining the bookcase. "Aren't you bored?"

Harry thought about this. Was he bored? He couldn't recall being bored, but he couldn't recall having great adventures, either. No, he just kept busy, and he didn't have time to be bored. "Not really," he admitted. "I do things, just not very busy things, if you know what I mean."

"Oh. Do you like Caedmon?" Ron wanted to know. "Everyone in the Order wants to know if he treats you all right."

Harry laughed. "He treats me fine," he assured them. "We talk a lot when he's not working—he has work of his own, so he's pretty busy—but when he's not, we chat. He has plenty of books for me, and he treats me like I'm an adult, so we get along pretty well."

"Have you been to Diagon Alley yet?" Hermione asked. "I figured that we could all go down together one day and have some fun as well as get our things for Hogwarts."

Harry grinned. "That sounds good. We'll ask Caedmon in the morning."

Someone knocked on the door, and Harry hurried to open it. It was Caedmon.

"Are all of you still talking?" he asked. "It's almost one in the morning. You should be getting some rest."

"We were just catching up," Hermione said, smiling. "We were asking Harry if he had gone to Diagon Alley yet to pick up his school supplies when you knocked."

Caedmon looked as if he wanted to kick himself. "I forgot all about that. Tomorrow's…let's see, Thursday? Would you like to go tomorrow or Friday?"

Harry thought about this. "How about tomorrow, if that's all right? Friday is on the weekend, and there are more people there on weekends."

Caedmon smiled. "I understand. Good idea, Harry. We'll go tomorrow. If we're going tomorrow, we'll have to get an early start, so don't stay up much longer, all right?"

"All right," Harry promised. "We'll go to bed soon."

Caedmon accepted this and wished them goodnight, and Harry turned back to his friends. "Told you he was cool."

"Never doubted you, pal," Ron said, stretching and yawning. "I'm ready for the sack."

Hermione yawned as well. "Me, too, I guess. See you in the morning, Harry."

"See you," Harry said, as Ron and Hermione headed off to bed. Once he was by himself, Harry burrowed into his covers and reflected that Diagon Alley would be a lot more fun with Ron and Hermione around.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Caedmon woke them up early for their trip to Diagon Alley.At first, Ron refused to get out of bed,but Hermione's threat to hex him sent him grudginglyoff to shower.After a quick breakfast, he, Hermione, Ron, and Caedmon all got into the car. Caedmon drove while the three youngsters all crowded into the back, chatting away.

"Gred and Forge say hello, by the way," Ron said, grinning.

Caedmon glanced back at them, surprised. "Who are they?"

"My brothers, Fred and George, but they'll do that every now and then to surprise people. They told me to tell Harry that Gred and Forge say hello."

"Well, tell them that Parry Hotter says hello back," Harry said, laughing.

They all heard Caedmon chuckle a little up in the front seat.

"Did you get your school letter, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, Dumbledore sent it with the letter he wrote me. Lots of books this year..."

"Yeah, isn't it great?" Hermione said dreamily. "All that reading..."

"Ah, we haven't even started the school year and she's already going!" Ron complained. "You should be a librarian, Hermione."

"I haven't decided on what I want to do after school, thank you very much," Hermione said testily.

"Could we please avoid bloodshed?" Caedmon asked from his seat, keeping his eyes on the road. "I don't want to have to explain to the Ministry why there are two dead people in my car."

Space

They reached the Leaky Cauldron, parked outside it, and went into the pub. It was crowded, and people everywhere were poring over newspapers and magazines, talking excitedly.

"I wonder what all the excitement's about?" Hermione said, looking around.

Ron grinned evilly. "It's because the world's greatest midget in glasses is here!"

"Or the world's biggest bighead," Hermione said, smiling innocently.

Ron's grin disappeared, and he looked perplexed. "What do you mean? Percy's not here."

Harry and Caedmon had to laugh as they went out the door that led to Diagon Alley. Once through the archway, they headed down the street to Gringott's. The atmosphere of excitement had carried out into the street, and people walking by would look at Harry, smile or wave, or they would bustle past, sometimes even stopping to shake his hand.

"What's all this about?" Harry wondered aloud as they went into the bank. "People don't usually do this."

Ron shrugged. An old woman came out of the bank, saw Harry, burst into tears, and gave him a hug, saying how happy the news made her before bustling off, sobbing into a handkerchief.

"What news?" Ron said, very puzzled. "Is this 'news' what everyone's excited about?"

"Well, it'll certainly explain why everyone's so happy to see Harry, if it is," Hermione said.

Space

Harry wondered aboutthe "news" while they visited his, Caedmon's and Ron's vaultsand the money changer's stallfor Hermione, and he kept wondering about itasthey re-entered the shopping alley and looked at their school lists, trying to decide where to head first.

"Why not save the books for last?" Caedmon suggested, breaking into Harry's brown study. "They're heaviest."

"Good idea," Ron said. "Let's visit the apothecary first, we all need some new ingredients after this past year."

From the apothecary they went to Eeylops' Owl Emporium to pick up some owl treats for Hedwig and Pig, and to a magical creatures' shop to get some cat treats and a toy for Crookshanks. (Hermione said that he'd been bored lately and Ron earned a black look when he remarked that the poor cat didn't have anything to chase.) They stopped off at Madame Malkin's for some new cloaks, and then it was off to Flourish and Blott's.

As always, the bookstore was very crowded, and there were lots of other Hogwarts students there as well. They were standing in line to check out when another old woman showed up, saw Harry, and gave a small scream before hugging him.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Caedmon demanded, a little annoyed. Any dark wizard could pretend to be an emotional old lady, and Caedmon wasn't taking any chances as he began to pry the old witch off Harry.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she gushed, wiping at her face with a very lacy handkerchief. "It's just that when I heard the news I was so happy..."

"_What_ news?" Harry asked, thoroughly tired of not knowing what was going on.

"You mean you haven't heard?" she said, surprised. "Amazing!"

"Heard _what_?" Ron persisted.

"Well, it was all in the news this morning, my dear, yes, it was," she said, patting Harry on the shoulder. "It turns out that your father had a brother, and he was raised by relatives living over in France, and he's only just learned of your parents' deaths because he's been traveling about, you see, and he's come back to England now, and--here's the best news of all--he'll be teaching at Hogwarts this year! You'll get to see him!"

Harry felt as if the world had slowed down and gone very cold. Had he really heard what he thought he heard?

The next thing Harry knew, he was sitting on a chair in the Leaky Cauldron with Caedmon tapping at his face and trying to get him to take a sip of butterbeer. He took a sip, but continued to feel as if everything was very cold.

"Come on, Harry, take a bigger one," Caedmon said, giving his shoulders a little shake. "Come back to us."

"Huh?" Harry said, wondering what was going on while Caedmon kept holding the cup up to his face.

"You sort of went white and started shaking, Harry," Caedmon explained. "Take a drink now, it will help."

"How did we get here?"

"I brought us here," Caedmon explained, still looking worriedly at Harry. "I left Ron and Hermione to pay for the books and Apparated both of us here. Are you all right? Honestly, I thought you were going to pass out."

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think I'm going to pass out. I _would_ like to see a paper, though. Or do you think you could get the mail from the house here? I want to see if there's anything from Professor Dumbledore."

Caedmon nodded, and made a small gesture in the air above his right shoulder. Suddenly, he was holding a Daily Prophet and a few letters.

"Figures we'd miss the mail since we left so early," he said, glancing at the Prophet and looking through the letters. "Ah, here we go. It's addressed to you."

Harry took the letter that was held out to him and studied the handwriting. It didn't look familiar, and when he looked at the return address, he saw the name _T. Potter_. His hands started shaking, but he managed to open the envelope and unfold the parchment inside of it.

_Dear Harry,_ it read.

_I certainly didn't intend for you to find out about me in this way. It's a secret I intended to keep, but this nosy reporter was hanging around Hogwarts forever, and she heard someone say my name and ask about you, so the secret got out. I'm sorry that I had to keep it, but it was safer for everyone involved, most of all you. I apologize and ask your forgiveness in advance. I'm not a blood relative, more like an adopted one, but I hope that you'll look on me as a friend. I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I hope I last longer than a year. I saw a picture of you, and you look astonishingly like James. For a moment I thought it was him, but then I spotted Lily's eyes looking out at me. Here's good wishes for the rest of the summer, and in case you're wondering, I won't insist you leave Caedmon unless you want to. From what Dumbledore has told me, there is no better guardian available right now in terms of power. I hope to see you on Semptember 1st, and try not to worry. I won't bite. Take care, Harry._

_Your "uncle,"_

_Thomas Potter_


	10. Chapter 10

Caedmon extended an invitation to Ron and Hermione to stay until September 1st. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that it was to make sure he wasn't lonely or spent too much time brooding, but he was glad of the company, so he didn't say anything. He and his friends spent the days together, walking around outside, talking, playing games, and just keeping one another company. Ron and Hermione's school things would be sent ahead, so they didn't have to worry about packing. Harry was the only one who had to pack, but he wasn't worried about getting all of his stuff to school. No, he was worried about something else entirely.

Harry wondered what he was going to do. The school year was drawing closer and he still had no idea what was going to happen when he got back to Hogwarts. It was as if someone had picked up the world, turned it upside down, and turned it right side up again, leaving everything to flutter down in a new way. It reminded Harry of a snow globe, and he was feeling distinctly fluttery himself.

A welcome visit from Lupin and Tonks came two days before they were due to head back to Hogwarts. They came and stayed a few hours, saying that they would have loved to stay longer, but that they had something to do and had only stopped by to see how Harry, Ron, and Hermione were.

Caedmon noticed that Harry seemed distinctly depressed. He didn't know if it was a case of "end of summer" blues or if Harry were truly dreading heading back to school. He began to wonder if he should talk to the boy about it, but in the end, he didn't have to. His grandmother did it for him.

It was August 31st, and Harry was packing the very last of his things into his trunk. He hadn't bothered undressing since he felt he couldn't get himself to lie down and go to sleep. He was too keyed up to even _think_ about sleeping, so he tried to keep himself busy. After packing and re-packing his trunk, he was starting to feel as if he were going to start screaming in a minute.

"You are worried," a quiet voice said, startling him.

Spinning around, he saw Caedmon's grandmother, seated on the edge of his bed.

"How did you know that, Cara?" he asked, surprised.

She smiled at his use of the name she'd given him. She'd had a feeling that he'd remember it. "I would have to be dead not to notice it, child," she said, patting the bed in an invitation for him to sit down next to her. "Also, I have never seen anyone pack a trunk several times in a row before. What is it that has you so worried?"

Sitting down beside her, Harry poured out his troubles to her: Voldemort, being The Boy Who Lived, and his uncle. She knew that he wasn't terribly worried about the first three things and that he had only listed them to cover up what he was really worried about. No, he was worried almost to death about an uncle he had never seen and was going to meet the next day.

Remembering how mortals were, she had to take a diplomatic approach with him: He wouldn't like to know that she had seen through his ploy to downplay his troubles, so she addressed the first problems first.

"I know about the man who calls himself 'Voldemort,'" she said, sounding scornful. "You may not believe me when I say this, but he is nothing to worry about."

Harry looked at her as if she were daft. "You do realize that the whole wizarding world is scared to death of him, don't you?"

"I understand their fear," she said, nodding slowly. "But I also understand that Voldemort is more afraid than they are. He is afraid that someone will become a light to combat his darkness. That is why he is so afraid of you."

Harry stared at her, not able to believe what he had heard. "Voldemort is afraid of me? How on earth do you know that?"

She smiled. "He is a man full of fear. He is a man, only that, and he is afraid. He strikes before others can strike at him, and he strikes only in fear. Why do you think he tried to kill you when you were only a baby? He was afraid of what you might become."

_That makes sense,_ Harry thought. _That makes an awful lot of sense._

"As for your problem of being 'The Boy Who Lived,'" she said, taking his hands in hers and rubbing them to warm them. "You are special. You lived when no one thought you would. You lived through something that everyone felt would be impossible to live through. Such a feat, and the fact that you were only a baby at the time, makes people believe you are special. Just because people believe you are special, they are bound to treat you so. But do you believe you are special? Do you want to be a great legend, or simply a young man?"

"I want people to stop treating me as if I were made of glass," Harry told her. "I want people to stop staring at me when they recognize me. I just want to be seen as Harry, rather than 'The Boy Who Lived.' Ron and Hermione don't treat me as special, and neither do the teachers at school or the Weasleys. They treat me as if I'm a normal person, and that's what I would like out of everybody."

"Then it sounds as if you have made your choice," she pointed out. "You wish to be a young man and not a legend. You wish to be mortal before you are immortal. That is a good choice to make. It is your decision what you will be that makes you what you are. Always remember that, and no one shall be able to tell you who or what you are."

Harry nodded, putting the words in his memory.

"Now, about your uncle," she said, giving his hands a pat. "You have never met him, and you are nervous about doing so. Also, you feel angry with him since he never came to save you from the Dursleys, am I right?"

"How did you…" Harry began, but he stopped. He had to learn to stop being surprised by her.

"What you feel is natural," she said. "It is the way of feelings to feel hurt. You thought you had no other family to save you from the relatives you had, so when you learn that you had someone all along, you do not know how to feel. You want to feel happy, but you cannot since you also feel angry at what was his unintentional failure to help you. It doesn't matter if he couldn't help not knowing what had happened to you, it is still natural for you to feel hurt."

Harry felt his eyes burning, and he prayed that he wouldn't cry. What she said made so much sense. . .

"Are you tired?" she asked, looking closely at his eyes.

"I don't think so," he said quietly. "I don't feel like I want to go to sleep or anything. Right now, I just feel sort of numb."

"That is only to be expected after a great deal of emotion," she explained. "How would you like to come with me? I am going to the Court tonight. Perhaps it will relax you."

"Court?"

"It is not a legal proceeding, I assure you," she said, smiling. "Will you come?"

Smiling back at her, he nodded.

Once he had nodded, she rose, still holding onto his hands, bringing him to his feet. She led him through the house by one hand, the way one would lead a child, and like an obedient child, he followed.

They reached the garden outside, and she led him to the back wall, where in one corner grew a thorn bush. Reaching out to the thorn bush, she closed her hand on a branch, but none of the thorns pierced her skin.

"How did you do that?" Harry asked. "And why?"

Her only answer was a smile as the thorn bush seemed to evaporate, leaving in its place a door. Opening it, she led Harry inside to the place beyond.

At first, all Harry could see was fog, but slowly, very slowly, he could see shapes in the mist. They were shapes of people, and he could hear whispering. Also, there was faint music, growing louder by the second. Drums, pipes, harps, and fiddles. As the mist cleared away, Harry saw that they were in a hall made out of trees, with the ceiling above and the floor below comprised of leaves. Branches grew out from the trunks, forming seats, couches, and tables. Every table had something to eat or drink on it, and there were couples crowding the floor, dancing with such wild abandon that Harry wondered how they stayed on their feet. Now the whispering was talking and laughing, and Harry saw that all of the people in the hall resembled Cara.

"Where are we?" he asked, too surprised to wonder just _how_ this place had been built into the wall.

"This is where we hold Court," she said, patting his shoulder, as if to tell him that everything were all right. "Many of these people you see here are Sidhe, like me."

"Oh," Harry said, looking about. "How did you make the floors?"

"They grew that way," she said, leading him to a couch. "Now, listen, for I have something to say that you must listen to. Do not eat or drink anything unless I give it to you. Someone may try to trick you, saying that I had asked them to bring you something, but don't believe them. If you ate or drank something that was not safe, you would not be able to return to the mortal world."

Harry nodded, wondering why. Food was food, wasn't it?

"Also," she continued, "Do not leave this room with anyone. I cannot keep you safe outside of this room. Do you understand?"

Again Harry nodded.

She smiled, relieved to see that he understood. "Well, then, Mr. Potter, would you care to dance?"

Harry had once told Professor McGonagall that he didn't dance, but that was before he'd met Cara. It didn't matter that she was Caedmon's grandmother, and it didn't matter that she was probably centuries older than he was; it only mattered that she was happy just to dance with him. They danced together, and then she introduced him to other girls who needed a partner or wanted to meet him. None of them seemed to realize that he was _the _Harry Potter, and he couldn't have been happier.

After his sixth or seventh dance, Harry was sweaty and exhausted. No one seemed to mind that he sought out a bench and sat down, and Cara, seeing he was sitting, brought him something to drink.

"How do you feel?" she asked, sitting down next to him. She brought out a towel from nowhere that he could use to wipe up with.

"Tired, but happy," he said after thinking about it for a moment. "This place is fun. Do you do this every night?"

"Not every night, but most nights," she said, refilling his glass when she noticed it was empty. She was looking out over the crowd, and her smile faded. "Oh, no."

"What's the matter?"

"Caedmon's brother is here," Cara muttered, looking ready to murder someone. "Now, how did he get in here? He always tries to ruin the party, honestly!"

Excusing herself, she swept off into the crowd after him, determined to catch him before he inflicted too much damage.

Two young men came over, looking very curious. "You're the mortal boy that Cara brought with her tonight, aren't you?" the taller one asked.

Harry nodded, not sure what to say.

"I'm Andros, and this is my brother, Errill," he said as they took seats on the couch as well. "Could we talk?"

Harry nodded and they sat down with him, asking him all sorts of questions. Harry was kept at a run with answers, for it seemed that the two brothers wanted to know everything about him. His throat was getting very dry by the time they asked him about Hogwarts, and Harry cast Andros a thankful look as he refilled his glass with what looked like ice water.

"I wouldn't," Ahearn said, appearing out of nowhere, resplendent in black silk and velvet. "Or did you forget Cara's warning not to eat or drink anything unless she gave it to you?"

Horrified, Harry sat his glass down on a handy table and looked at the two brothers for an explanation. Not surprisingly, they were no longer there.

"They are the two biggest troublemakers of the Sidhe," Ahearn said, draping himself over the couch next to Harry. "They would have thought it hilarious for you to be trapped here forever."

"Ah, thank you," Harry said, feeling rather embarrassed. How could he have forgotten so easily?

"Don't worry about it," Ahearn told him, stretching and giving a sigh. "I'm only doing my duty to my beloved little brother."

Harry was confused. "I thought you two hated each other."

Ahearn shook his head. "We may argue, we may disagree, and we may annoy one another past all patience and reason, but we are still brothers. I owed it to him to watch after his ward, that's all."

Cara appeared, furious at Ahearn, but Harry promptly explained how Ahearn had helped him. Cara thanked him, and he bowed, and after that, Cara took him back to the house and helped him get ready for bed.

Harry didn't mind that he was in his teens and having someone help him dress for bed. He was exhausted, far too exhausted to manage on his own. The last thing he remembered was Cara whispering to him, telling him to sleep and wake in the morning rested.

Harry's eyes closed obediently, and he slept, dreaming of people speaking to him and granting him power.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Harry leaned back into the cushions of the train seat and sighed. He couldn't believe how calm he felt, or how happy. He'd all but bounded out of bed that morning, glad to be alive and surprisingly, glad to be going back to school.

"We're almost there," Hermione said, checking her watch. "Oh, I can't wait! I've already planned all sorts of things for S.P.E.W!"

Ron groaned. "Don't tell me you're going to start that up again, are you? Honestly, it's a plague!"

"It is _not_," Hermione snapped, putting things away in her purse. "It is a worthy cause, you know. I mean, so many elves are trapped in a labor system that does them no good."

"You're wasting your time," Ron muttered, wilting under Hermione's glare.

Harry decided not to comment.

"How are you doing, mate?" Ron asked Harry, glancing at him sideways.

"I feel all right," Harry answered, putting his _Daily Prophet_ away in a pocket. "I don't understand it, but I'm not nervous anymore."

"I think it was that breakfast Caedmon had for us," Ron remarked, grinning. "I mean, who eats chocolate cake for _breakfast_? Mum would've had a fit!"

Hermione giggled. "Or ice cream and jam tarts!"

Ron's grin grew. "Or even lemon meringue pie!"

Harry grinned in response. When they'd reached the kitchen for breakfast that morning, they'd found a feast of sweets of all kinds. Hermione remarked that it looked like a dessert bar she'd seen in a Muggle restaurant. They'd stuffed themselves silly before heading out to King's Cross, and Caedmon wished them all luck as they got on the train, reserving a hug for Harry.

"Take care of yourself, would you? And write? Everyone will want to hear about you," he said very quietly in Harry's ear. "Grandmother especially."

"I will," Harry had promised just as he hopped on the train. "I'll see you soon, Caedmon."

The train slowed, jerking Harry out of his thoughts. Only when he'd left Caedmon did he realize how much he liked the guy.

"Firs' years!" they heard Hagrid boom. "Firs' years, this way!"

"Hi, Hagrid!" all three of them shouted, getting the big man's attention.

"Hey, you three," Hagrid said, waving them on toward the coaches. "Great ter see yer!"

Harry shivered as they drew closer to the carriages that were pulled by thestrals. When he first spotted them at the beginning of his fifth year, he'd been shocked, but now, it wasn't so bad. Even so, he still had to fight down shivers as he got close to one. One turned, looked at him knowingly, and _whuffed_ in his ear, making him jump.

Harry scrambled into the carriage behind Ron and Hermione, and once he saw the castle come into view up ahead, he smiled. Again, there was that feeling of coming home.

Everyone headed inside, ducking Peeves and his latest arsenal: rotten eggs.

"Yes!" Ron cried, glee overcoming him. "Look who he hit! Malfoy and his gorillas!"

Harry felt laughter begin in his stomach and work its way up into his chest, through his throat, and out of his mouth. Hermione was giggling like a creature possessed. Ron draped his arm around Harry and laughed out loud, his "HA HA HA HA!" echoing off the walls.

They entered the Great Hall, took their seats, and Professor McGonagall brought out the stool and the Sorting Hat.

Harry, however, was busy searching the teacher's table for a face he didn't recognize. No, he knew everyone there. Where was this uncle who was supposed to be there?

The Hat suddenly started into his song:

_What is a family, and what's a clan?_

_What's forbidden, and what's banned?_

_Do we know who we really are?_

_I know this better than you, by far._

_A hat sits on the head where all your secrets lie._

_I can see YOU better than any eye._

_Without eyes I perceive all that no one will see,_

_So trust me to tell you where you ought to be!_

_Yet, as I name new students of the houses four,_

_I can't help feeling we've been down this path before,_

_For in danger it is not in alliances that trouble lie,_

_But in fractions it is how we always die._

_But please, don't fear or fret!_

_We've a whole year of learning to get through yet!_

_So try me on and trust in me to see,_

_Just where it is that you are meant to be!_

Everyone applauded, congratulating the hat on its song. It bowed, muttered something, and then went still. Just as Professor McGonagall began to call the name of the first years, a side door opened, and a small, skinny man slipped inside, fussing with the sleeve of his robe.

"Ah, Professor, good to see you," Harry heard Professor Dumbledore say. "We were wondering if you were coming."

"Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I had a little problem in my office," the man said. "Is Harry here?"

By this time, Professor McGonagall was going on with the Sorting while Harry pretended to study the tableware in front of him. So that was his uncle? Hmm.

"Professor Dumbledore just nodded to you," Hermione whispered. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"I'm fine," he whispered back, suddenly feeling anything but.

"Abbot, Jerusha!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Barter, Jeremy!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Borders, Christopher!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry wished that the Sorting would go a little faster. After all, he could eat and run upstairs and not have to see this uncle of his until tomorrow morning.

"Delaney, Morris!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry was pleased to see that Morris Delaney did not look happy about having to sit next to Malfoy. Also, he noticed that everyone was giving Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle wide margins.

And so it went, until at last "Zathers, August!" was made a Ravenclaw. The plates filled with food, and everyone dug in.

"Ahh, that's better," Ron remarked once he had put away his last bite of dessert. "I feel like a human."

"I always eat too much at these feasts," Hermione remarked, leaning back from the table. "But everything just looks so good. . ."

"Tell me about it," Harrysaid sleepily. "I'm surprised that I didn't end up as fat as Dudley after my first year here."

"What an image!" Ron croaked, pretending to be sick. "Aw, Harry, I might never get that sight out of my head!"

Harry threw a piece of cookie at him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Harry wasn't prepared for the stack of wrapped birthday gifts waiting by his bed. It towered to the ceiling on all sides of his bed and on his bed it reached the canopy. There were presents shoved underneath the bed, under his bedside table, and there were gifts covering the nearby desk. He, Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus stared at the plentitude, wondering how they all had gotten there.

"Wow," Neville breathed, amazed. "Harry, who sent you all of these?"

"I dunno," Harry said, reading the tags. "I mean, I don't recognize the names at all. Professor Dumbledore did write me about these, but I didn't know there were going to be so many…Should I open them?"

"If you don't mate, I will," Ron said, eyeing the presents with barely concealed glee. "I love opening stuff!"

"Well, if I'm going to get this lot opened before midnight, I'm going to need some help," Harry said, looking around at all of his friends' faces.

In a wrapping-paper massacre that would never be rivaled again, Harry and his friends opened all of the gifts while an accommodating QuickQuotes quill that Dean had took an inventory of what was there and who had sent what. There were books, clothes, sweets, spell instruments, Quidditch gear, and charms and protections that were supposed to keep him safe. The gift in the gold wrapping proved to be a book called "Quidditch Hints and Tips: Improving Your Playing," and it was from Mrs. Figg. The gift in Snitch-patterned wrapping was a pair of warm, woolly socks. The card said the socks were from Professor Dumbledore. Remembering what Professor Dumbledore had told him when he asked what the older man saw in the Mirror of Erised, Harry had to laugh.

"Last one, mate," Ron said, pulling a small gift out from underneath the bed. "The card on this one says it's from your uncle. You should open it, not one of us."

Harry pushed aside a pile of wrapping paper and sank down on his bed while his friends gathered about him. He read the card, wondering what it was.

_Dear Harry,_

_Many happy returns! I hope this will be the beginning of many years where I'll be able to send you a birthday gift. I hope this gift will make up for my negligence of past years. Until we are able to speak, I remain, _

_Your Uncle Thomas._

Harry set the card aside while the QuickQuotes quill scribbled _Thomas Potter._ Feeling decidedly fluttery in his stomach, Harry unwrapped the gift and was left staring at what appeared to be a very normal-looking book. Turning it over, he read the title, not sure at all of what to make of it.

_Harry Potter's _

_Big Book of Answers_

"Oooooh-kaaay," Ron drawled, reading the title. "What d'you suppose it is?"

"I dunno," Harry muttered thoughtfully, flipping the pages. They were all blank.

"Some answer book," Dean said, looking at the book over Harry's shoulder. "I mean, there's nothing in it!"

"Maybe you're supposed to ask it a question?" Neville suggested. "Hey, book! What's the main use of a mandrake plant?"

Nothing happened.

"Maybe we're supposed to say 'please' or something?" Seamus guessed, so they re-phrased the question, making sure to be polite.

Nothing.

"What if we used its name?" Ron said, sounding thoughtful. "You know, like 'Big Book of Answers, how do I…?'"

They tried it, and again, nothing happened.

"Oh, this is getting annoying," Ron muttered, shoving wrapping paper out of his way so he could get to his bed. "Maybe you could ask him tomorrow, Harry? I'm gonna go crazy until I know how that thing works!"

Harry looked at it thoughtfully, remembering something. "D'you think it works like that diary Ginny had in our second year? You know, write something and it writes back?"

"I don't think I like the sound of that, mate," Ron said, looking worried.

"Yeah, sounds dodgy to me," Seamus agreed.

"I wouldn't risk it," Dean said while Neville nodded vigorously.

"He's supposed to be my uncle, and Professor Dumbledore and the other teachers have already checked all of these!" Harry protested.

"Well, be careful," Ron cautioned, as Harry took out ink and a quill. He and the other boys watched as Harry wrote: _What kind of book are you?_

All of them stared as the book wrote back:

_Well, aren't we bright! I'm an answer book, brainless! Read the front cover!_

They all started laughing, too surprised to do anything else. It seemed all right. Harry dipped his quill in the ink and wrote something else: _Did Thomas Potter send you?_

Everyone crowded around, trying to see what the book was writing back.

_He said you might ask that, and he told me to tell you that he applauds you for your caution. Yes, he sent me. Honestly, I feel like a bloody owl._

Excited, Harry wrote something else: _What kind of answers can you give me?_

The book waited a moment before answering.

_It really depends on what you ask, kid. Can I help you with your homework? Sure thing, but don't expect me to do it for you. Test question? Don't even bother asking me. I'm not a tool to help you cheat. Want me to illustrate a difficult concept? I'm your tome. Want me to be an aid to reflection? Tell me all about yourself, and I'll be able to tell you all about you when you most need it. I know a good deal about thousands of topics, so if you have a question, write it, and I'll answer you._

"Oh, I want one of those," Seamus said, sounding jealous. "Where can I get one?"

Harry wrote: _My friend Seamus would like a book like you. Do you know where he can get one?_

Slowly, the letters formed on the page.

_Sure. We're from _Enchanted Tomes, Inc., _a wizard and witch's book paradise; specializing in special editions and non-fiction self-helps, such as Yours Truly. The _Big Book of Answers _line includes pocket-size, palm-size, mouse-size, wand-size, and table-size of _Answers_ books. We are available in a variety of bindings, covers, folios, quality of papers, and colors. Right now, the special is a green dragon-hide covering with silk frontispieces, folded in quarto, made of 100 pure cream parchment, four only fifty- five Galleons! Order today while they're still in stock! Want to personalize it? For only ten Sickles more, you'll be able to have your name or the name of a loved one or friend stamped on the cover, to make their _Big Book of Answers _their very own!_

Everyone stared at the advertisement, certain that the book had to be joking. A moment later, new words formed.

_Do you know how exhausting having to do that spiel is? Honestly, they could have made it a little shorter, but no. No, whenever someone asks that question, I have to go through the whole thing. Does that answer your question for your friend Seamus?_

Seamus nodded.

_Yes, thanks,_ Harry wrote, feeling a little tired himself. At that point, the clock struck twelve, and everyone agreed that it was time for bed.

_It's very late,_ Harry wrote. _Do I need to put you somewhere so you can sleep, because my friends and I are going to hit the sack._

_No, I don't sleep,_ the book wrote. _I'll be fine in a drawer or on top of a table or on a shelf. Just make sure that water can't get to me; I despise soggy pages._

_How would my bedside table drawer be?_

_That's perfect, as long as it's nice and clean._

After assuring the book that it was, Harry tucked it away and blew out his candle. He could see a lot of fun in store with this book.

One problem continued to worry him, though: He would have to see his uncle tomorrow.


End file.
